Between Love and Hate
by rookafella
Summary: After his death, she couldn't stand it anymore. They took over her body again, but after a time she finally managed to control them and her powers. Now she's back, and she's forced to face the man she hates and the fact that maybe he's not so bad after al


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Between Love and Hate 

Prologue

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She shivered against the cold stone, trying vainly to wrap her bare, numb arms around herself to trap what little heat there was. The figure that lay in a heap in front of her twitched again and whimpered in his sleep. Whether it was fear or pain, she couldn't be sure, but either way it crushed her to see him like this, and even more to see him down to this level. She reached out to push his overgrown bangs back, but he flinched away and his eyes shot open again. He seemed confused for a moment, lost and frantic, but as he saw her his gaze softened again, and he painfully managed to prop himself stiffly against the wall in a sort of half-sitting position. Even in the dark she could see how every move brought a new and greater wave of pain. Her eyes swept slowly down his face only to stop at the thin metal collar around his neck. Despite her control- or lack there of- she couldn't help but reach… Her gloved fingers barely grazed the surface when his hand shot up to her wrist, and yanked it back down. 

"Ah…", she began softly, but he held up his other hand to silence her. He wasn't angry, but scared. Scared for himself, scared for her. His arms, wrapped in the one moth-eaten blanket they'd been left, circled her small quivering form, and the two lay huddled together in the dark corner of their cell. 

"Marie…" He murmured her name softly- the name only he knew to call her. She looked up at him anxiously and opened her mouth, about to tell him he shouldn't speak. 

"No…Marie, listen to me." He dipped his head to cough severely into the blanket. "Reach… reach into my pocket." 

Her troubled eyes searched his pained ones for a moment, but still she reached down into his pocked, pulling out a long metal chain with a single, silver dog tag hanging limply from the end. She rubbed her thumb gently over the small, beaten tag, her brow furrowing in confusion. 

"Do… do ya want them on?" She reached up again as if to hang the chain around his neck. He pulled her wrist away again, but more gently this time. 

"I want you to wear them." He replied softly, pushing her hand towards her own neck. "I want you… take hold on to them. Keep 'em safe 'till I ask for them again." 

Realization dawned on her suddenly. He thought he wasn't going to make it. He was trying… trying to saying goodbye. "Logan, no. Ah wont let ya do this. Ah don't want 'em!" Her pleas were drowned out by the heavy footsteps echoing from the hall. The door slammed open without warning and two heavily armored men step in, looming over them from the shadow of the doorway. Each of them wore identical silver circlets around their throats, barely visible beneath the thick cloaks they wore. Another man, following slightly behind slipped in as well. He seemed to be more interested in the playing card he held then what the others were doing. After a few moments of silence, and a glare or two from the shadowed soldiers, he slipped the card in his coat pocket and glanced up. As if on cue, the men stepped forward, one of them shoving the girl out of the way, and the other yanking the blanket away from Logan. As their eyes adjusted to the dim light, it was now plain to see that the men wore masks to guard their identities. The two of them yanked Logan up and began to half drag, half carry him off.

Marie shot up, bracing her body to catapult herself at one of the soldiers. The third man dashed forward to stop her. He yanked her arms behind her back, holding them with one hand, he twisted his other arm around her to reinforce his hold. She struggled weakly against his grip, tearing at his coat sleeve, but his clutch held, and all she managed to do was rip the buttons from the cuff. 

"Logan!" She screeched, as they began pulling him out of the room. Logan's blank eyes swept over her now tear streaked face, before he closed them for the last time, whispering her name silently under the din. 

"Marie…" 

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(Authors notes)

Wow… so I guess this is it. I started writing this little fic on impulse, and I haven't the slight idea where it's going beyond the next chapter. I just really had the urge to write something Romy. That's Rogue/ Remy for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term. I know this was short, but please, bare with me, it was the prologue. I'm going to make an attempt at long chapters, but no promises. I haven't written anything in quite awhile, and I'm afraid I'm a little rusty. My only real practice is roleplay. I am going to try the accents. For those of you who didn't realize it, Rogue (Marie) wasn't saying 'Ah', she was saying 'I'. I notice this is the way most of you write the accent, so I figured I'd try it. I noticed a lot of what I wrote goes with the movie, but it doesn't really follow that or evolution, so I'm just sticking it in this section. It's more active over here anyhow. Reviews and Flames alike are welcome, and even encouraged. 

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{_In the next chapter we meet a new and improved Rogue 3 years later when she returns to the Institute after a few years of mental rehabilitation, and get to meet Xavier's newest recruits. Trouble brews and titans clash, in more than one way, but there's no telling who's going to come out on top.} _


End file.
